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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29055183">The Struggles of Modern Knighthood</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>ONEUS (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reality Show, Enemies to Lovers, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Tournaments, funny if you squint</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:26:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,569</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29055183</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“According to Kim, Lee Seoho is no more than a two-faced country boy that behaves like a brat behind the cameras, and is only ever nice when they turn on. He is ungrateful to both staff and other competitors alike and hence undeserving of the love his fans give him and much less deserving of the title of Queen’s knight-” </p><p>Needless to say, Lee Seoho hates Youngjo’s guts.</p><p>(A modern take on knights tournaments)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Lee Seoho</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakurahaiku/gifts">sakurahaiku</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warnings for a stolen kiss and Youngjo being an asshole. Hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span>It is kind of an outdated practice, Seoho knows- and normally, he’d be the first to question the archaic ways of life under monarchy in the times of widely spread democracy, globalized market and tiktok. But being a queen’s knight has always been Seoho’s aspiration, a childhood dream of sorts- the only one that ever lingered. And to be fair, Seoho would be a fool to deny his own irrational attachments to ceremonies and traditions- courtesy of his own traditionally driven family, thank you very much. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>Under normal circumstances, Seoho was to go under a meticulous, draining process of selection that involved years of training his body and mind at the royal academy until an examination board found him fit to be granted knighthood. But lately the population has shown a renewed interest for the old royal ways, and thus, an extraordinary tournament was instated, opened for everyone in the kingdom who could wield a sword. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>Naturally, Seoho jumped in at the very first opportunity and signed up for it- university be damned. Little did it matter to him that it was shameless royal propaganda to uplift the decaying image over years and years of generalized disdain. But Seoho had the support of his family, an excelling background in fencing and a clean name- and that was more than enough to justify the loss of the semester, should this turn to be an utter disaster. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>The first weeks were hell- the televised format meaning he had a camera shoved into his face at all times- even when he was not competing. After all, a knight was to have an impeccable reputation and behave like a proper gentleman on top of the required combat skills. But despite his modest middle class background, no royal title, his clumsy ways and the stammering over his words, Seoho quickly earned the love of the audience, who found him a hidden treasure among rich spoiled boys that acted as though the world belonged to them. Of course, the fact that Seoho was a skilled swordsman and an athletic wonder did help his case. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>A thousand suitors became a hundred in a matter of days- a feral selection that Seoho is unsure how he managed to pass. Then fifty- and that’s when his unexpected attention and surprising social media presence came in handy, awarding him the strength he needed to go through the arduous tests and swaying the popularity scores to his favour more often than not. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>But of course, those mean nothing if Seoho loses his combats or falls behind on the races- or stumbles over his words in the interviews-  Seoho sometimes feels as though he were in a beauty pageant instead- sometimes he’s even made to wear make up. Make up to </span><em><span>fight</span></em><span> for </span><em><span>god's sake</span></em><span>. But he does great, nonetheless, with the help of his assigned coaches he makes unprecedented improvement in a question of days- though not without hard work, if the constant soreness and the ugly bruising has anything to say about it. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>Somehow Seoho fights his way into the top twenty participants and before he knows it, the competition gets tough. And he means, really tough. Seoho has to learn to watch his back the ugly way- and not just inside the arena. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>Because Seoho made friends along the way. But Seoho made some big, powerful enemies too.  </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“I cannot believe he would do this- fucking asshole-”</span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“Ah! </span><em><span>Language.</span></em><span>” Keonhee, past competitor and his recently self- appointed publicist (and best friend), chastises him with a frown. “If you’re gonna be a knight you need to watch your language, Seoho, I don’t know how many times I have to repeat myself on this, it is </span><em><span>crucial-</span></em><span>”</span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“But he’s a liar!” Seoho protests as he stares in disbelief at the screen of his phone, at the infuriatingly perfect face of Kim Youngjo- the nation’s favourite golden marine boy-  who stares back at him with mocking impunity. “Just listen to this! </span><em><span>According to Kim, Lee Seoho is no more than a</span></em> <em><span>two-faced country boy that behaves like a brat behind the cameras, and is only ever nice when they turn on. He is ungrateful to both staff and other competitors alike and hence undeserving of the love his fans give him and much less deserving of the title of Queen’s knight-</span></em><span> what kind of bullshit is this? We’ve barely even talked before!” </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“Well I mean… you did call him spoiled that one time-”</span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“They took that out of context! I didn’t even know the cameras were on, for god's sake-” Seoho sputters, remembering that little careless slip the previous week that had him trending on twitter for a whole day- mostly people laughing and calling him a </span><em><span>social warrior king</span></em><span> for calling the sons of the richest assholes in the kingdom </span><em><span>spoiled</span></em><span> on national TV. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“Okay.”</span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“And, besides, I wasn’t talking about him in particular, I was talking about that little group he always hangs around with-” </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>Keonhee hums from his place on the couch and clicks his tongue, checking out his neatly manicured nails in blatant boredom. “I told you if you didn’t join his clique you would be in trouble sooner or later. You need to start being more strategic.”</span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“I don't care about strategies I stand by it. I refuse to join their stupid private boarding school boys clique-”</span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“So now you gotta deal with the consequences!” Keonhee snaps, finally tired of hearing him moan all evening. “Listen, I know it sucks, but the best thing you can do right now is be the better man. Don’t reply, don’t even acknowledge him. Some people will believe him- most of your fans will not. But this is good, okay? He’s currently ranked first and decided to come for you of all people? You’re sixth. It’s </span><em><span>obvious</span></em><span> that he feels threatened by you- so, chin up. It means you have a chance to win this for real.” </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>Seoho is left frowning with a pout on his friend’s large sofa while the other prepares them a couple margaritas to take the edge off. He rereads the aggravating article a couple more times, and refreshes twitter obsessively to read the reactions- unfortunately rather mixed. </span></p><p>
  <span>Seoho ignores the couple of notifications he gets- most of them from his family, who are cautious as to not mention the article, but still go ridiculously out of their way to offer him unprompted comfort. He gets a couple of emails too- news outlets asking whether he’d like to make a comment regarding </span>
  <em>
    <span>young lord Kim's statement</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And god does he want to, does Seoho want to type until his thumbs hurt, tell them all about how </span>
  <em>
    <span>young lord kim</span>
  </em>
  <span> is but a jealous, narcissistic, odiously privileged little boy with the ego of a five years old that can’t even stand being reminded that he isn’t the centre of the universe for a single second- </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>But alas, he can't. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As much as he hates to admit it, Keonhee is right, and though it pains him to his very soul, Seoho has to be the bigger man here. For his own good. So he erases the mails in case he gets tipsy and reconsiders. As he drowns his margarita in one go, Seoho fantasizes about the day he finally has Youngjo on his knees before him- not literally. Biting the dust kind of scenario, he means. Defeated. Defeated as Seoho stands victorious before him in the arena so he shows that bastard just how deserving Seoho is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For pride purposes, of course. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not like Seoho’s personally hurt and wants personal revenge. It’s not like Youngjo was the first to show him  kindness back when Seoho fell while training and everybody laughed- the one who patted him on the back and gently told him not to get discouraged, only to stab him on it the second Seoho shows promise. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Two-faced Seoho his </span>
  <em>
    <span>ass. </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <span>...</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The next day Seoho arrives to training a whole five minutes late for the very first time- and slightly hungover to top it off, courtesy of Lee Keonhee’s expensive liquor cabinet. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>His coach side-eyes him disapprovingly, but thankfully there are no cameras around this time to record his lack of punctuality. However, Seoho does feel somewhat more watched than ever- getting stares and peers from the other competitors and a few snickers as the cherry on top of his already shitty day. But that's okay. It was bound to happen. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Youngjo is thankfully engaging in practice on the other side of the gym, beating opponent after opponent with enviable ease. When their eyes meet across the room, Seoho frowns and averts his gaze. He turns around, and visualizes the other’s face on the punching bag- so very clearly it arouses in him such rage, he doesn’t stop punching the bag until he’s dripping with sweat and his coach has to drag him away by the back of the shirt. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Go get your lunch.” He orders him with a severity in his eyes that Seoho finds it impossible to defy- not that he has ever dared to go by anything other than the rules before. It’s partly the reason for his success, he thinks. The staff likes that he’s incredibly low maintenance in comparison to demanding young men that believe they’re owed being treated like actual princes- despite having only minor titles. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I see you had fun there, Lee.” A freezing voice reaches him from behind when Seoho finally passes by the luxurious buffet- most likely Seoho’s favourite part of the whole royal tournament fiasco. Seoho also likes all the praise he gets, but he’s not about to admit that out loud. “Looking well rested.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The prospect of food ruined, Seoho lets his head hang and exhales, thankfully too tired to even try and punch the guy in his pretty face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, yes, I had a blast pretending I was punching the person responsible for yesterday’s article- oh wait. That was you!” Seoho exclaims, voice dripping mean sarcasm that does nothing to help him with his emotional self-regulation. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Kim Youngjo, leaning against the table with a hand next to him, looking like- funny enough, a knight in shining armour, doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest at his little outburst. Instead, he looks at Seoho with that nonchalant, easy smile that got him the love of thousands of viewers. Fooled, all of them, unaware of the venom this snake-man carries all over his body. His perfect, perfect body. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“And you expect me not to call you a brat? Look at your attitude-” Youngjo tuts gently, complacent even when he’s making Seoho boil with anger. “Not fit for a knight.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Seoho slams his plastic plate on the table and looks right up at him, saccharine smile so sweet it’s sickly, before he takes a deep breath. “You’re one to talk- you pretend like you’re all nice and sweet, but the moment you get a chance you won’t hesitate to throw a low blow. Yeah, real classy, let me tell you-” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A low blow?” Youngjo’s eyes widen in his face, showing no signs of anger nor remorse. “None of this would have happened if you had kept your pretty mouth shut, Seoho.” He retaliates, flirty even when deadly, face unreadable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Over the days, Seoho has learnt to ignore the words that stir complex, burdensome emotions deep in his belly that he doesn't know how to deal with at all. Words like </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretty</span>
  </em>
  <span> hardly mean anything anymore to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> However- and this is what has Seoho tugging at his hair in frustration at night- the way Youngjo says his name, how he always lowers his voice when he pronounces it, as though it were something dark, obscure- it does things to him. And at some point, Seoho doesn’t know why he’s this angry anymore, whether it’s because Youngjo is the epitome of infuriating, or because Seoho can’t quite decipher the inner turmoil he feels at the mere sight of him. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I fucking said I was sorry.” He sneers, lowering his voice before he enters a screaming match and gets written up to the royal discipline board or something equally as dumb sounding. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You can't call that half-mumbled 'sorry' an actual apology, are you serious? That was the most insincere, the poorest apology I’ve ever received-” God, he's so full of himself, Seoho kind of wants to slap the arrogance out of him- And perhaps kind of kiss it better afterwards, should he leave a red mark- but that’s not the point here. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Seoho’s lips quirk into a sarcastic smirk, his voice as sweet and velvet as honey. “Oh, I'm </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span>, did his royal majesty expect me to get on my knees and beg for his forgiveness?” Honey that tastes like venom.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Yet all it takes is a smug little smile, the glint of amusement sparking in Youngjo’s eyes for a single second, and Seoho realizes- painfully late- that he set himself up for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he closes his eyes, clenches his teeth and takes it.</span>
</p><p><span>“Yeah that would have actually been appropriate, I believe. But that’s okay- I understand people like you never had the opportunity to be instructed proper manners.” Seoho fumes, so utterly enraged, he can’t even muster the energy to get back at him, as he’s using it all up to keep his body in check. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>When Youngjo understands Seoho’s not going to do anything else but try to murder him on wishful thinking alone, he chuckles pleasantly- the asshole, he even fake-laughs prettily- and clicks his tongue to hopefully take his leave. “Well, I hope you enjoy your food and the rest of your day.” Youngjo says with disdainful politeness but with eyes full of pompous victory. “Oh and… Good luck.” The older says as he turns away. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>A pause, a single moment of peace before Seoho’s chest is once again filled with raging fury when that annoying, provocative little voice seems to lick at his skin.</span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span> “You’re gonna need it.”</span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>...</span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>The week passes by blessedly quickly after that. It’s easy to hyperfocus when all Seoho can think about is beating Youngjo’s ass in the arena, and </span><em><span>how</span></em><span> to beat Youngjo’s ass in the arena and </span><em><span>how</span></em> <em><span>lovely</span></em><span> it will be when he finally beats Youngjo’s ass in the arena. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>His popularity ranking admittedly takes a toll after Youngjo’s devious comments for the article- but Keonhee proves to be a hidden jewel, taking over Seoho’s rusty instagram and live-documenting every second of Seoho’s free time. </span></p><p>
  <span>Turns out, Seoho doesn’t need to do much but be his dorky self -and go viral for some acrobatics video- for his followers count to go up exponentially. They appear as if beckoned by the force of Seoho’s secret thirst for revenge and social class fight- Yes. Yes, Seoho is aware that beating Youngjo in a royal tournament won’t fix classism, but it sure does feel like it will if he humiliates him hard enough. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Instagramming gets Seoho to the top five most popular competitors in no time. Keonhee suspects it’s because although Seoho may have less fans than the others, his are younger in comparison to the type of middle aged, patriotic followers a guy like Youngjo mostly has. A younger fan base means more online engagement and hence, more voting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seoho doesn't fully get it- but that's okay. He'd rather let Keonee handle things and ignore his virtual existence before he gets majorly stressed about </span>
  <em>
    <span>fame. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Or something. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You’re basically a gold mine.” Keonhee says one day as he scrolls through all the sponsor and modelling offers he can’t accept as per his contract- at least until the tournament is over. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>But of course, his success doesn’t come cheap. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Seoho finds himself more and more isolated during training, to the point where he feels as though all the other competitors had decided to stand by Youngjo, if only to get on the good side of the most likely winner. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He does try not to let this affect him- after all, he’s on a quest here. He’s part of something bigger than himself now, and he’s decided to take the title of </span>
  <em>
    <span>social warrior king</span>
  </em>
  <span> extremely seriously. Even if victory involves allying with the literal enemy. Yes, Seoho’s also aware that he’s a walking contradiction. It's a minimal detail he'll sort at one point. Someday. Maybe. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>To achieve his goal, Seoho goes by Keonhee’s sacred rule and decides to give Kim Youngjo the silent treatment. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Seoho doesn’t even try to hide it, not even greeting him out of courtesy. And though he’s trying to act like a mature adult about the whole thing, Seoho won’t deny the twisted satisfaction he feels every time Youngjo clenches his jaw in annoyance, each time he sees him walk over to him only to turn around the last moment, visibly disturbed. Seoho also doesn’t miss the spiteful looks the other sends him mid-practice, from across the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They feel like victory. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The day of the official elimination round arrives before Seoho feels fully ready, a mess of staff, reporters and competitors cramped in the hallways under the arena, and the occasional camera here and there that won’t let Seoho breathe. He’s jittery with nerves, humming song after song for himself until he reaches the waiting room where they get called one by one for mini individual interview before the rounds start, and Seoho’s forced to sit in silence for half an hour as he waits for his turn. All after having gone through a thorough, painfully long process of doing his hair and make up. It’s ridiculous, Seoho thinks. He’s gonna sweat it all out on nervousness alone. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Little by little the room empties, until it’s just him and Youngjo alone in the space- the muffled sound of music and the audience seeping through the walls as their only company. The anxiety turns out to be too much, and Seoho begins to pace, unawarely- back and forth and then again, until Youngjo puts his arm out and stops him by his stomach. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You’re unbearable. Just sit down and wait your turn.” Youngjo huffs- and naturally, he gets ignored, slapping his arm away roughly as Seoho continues to pace. “For the love of god, just stay still-” The older one stands up in an unusual display of frustration that startles Seoho into freezing in place. He doesn't expect the way Youngjo grabs him by the elbow, forcing him to turn around in a dizzying twirl. Their eyes meet and Seoho's finally anchored, with their faces inches apart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From up close, Seoho can see everything about him. The dust of make up over smooth skin, the perfect curl of lenghty lashes and an enviable curl of soft looking lips, almost kittenish like. Seoho doesn't like the way his heart slows down as he submerges himself in the other's mesmerizing features- nor the way it pounds again with renewed strenght when he feels the other's breath caress his skin. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s electric, the tension in the air, the way Youngjo’s hand burns on his arm, spreads up to his chest and all the way to his cheeks. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You can’t ignore me forever, Lee.” Youngjo whispers after what feels like an eternity of staring into honey brown eyes that contain a sea of secrets that Seoho didn’t know just how much he wishes he could unveil. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Watch me, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Seoho wants to say, but the words get stuck in his throat when a producer peeks through the door and calls for Youngjo to come out, breaking their little bubble of tension. She seems too busy to even take a proper look at them and is out the door the very same second. But Seoho's left almost shaking, something about this screams trouble in his mind, warns him to move, to do something, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older's eyes flicker between the door and Seoho, who raises an eyebrow questioningly when he realizes no other muscle in his body is willing to obey. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Before he knows what’s happening, Youngjo tenses his grip on his arm, a fleeting contact on his chin and Seoho falls prey of Youngjo’s lips- lips that steal a hurried kiss and his staggered breath away. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Try ignoring me now.” Youngjo whispers hotly against his ear before he lets go, suspiciously slow, leaving a provocative caress on his body. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Seoho’s left mindless, lips tingling and body on fire, trembling inside out from all the feelings that scream at him all at the same time, leaving him more petrified and overwhelmed than before. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Right now. There are only two things Seoho is sure of. <br/><br/></span>
  <span>The first, is that the face of young conservative patriotism, has just willingly kissed him in a room with a door ajar and hundreds of cameras waiting outside. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The second, is that Youngjo has just declared him war. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Because if Youngjo wants him to fail, then there is no better gambit than leaving Seoho dazzled and confused with a single kiss from him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi, I live! Updating this lil thing so I keep this going because I don't have the energy to finish it rn OTL</p><p>Watnings for Youngjo being an asshole and possibly internalized homophobia? It's up to interpretation. Hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The round is a bloodbath.<br/>
<br/>
Figuratively speaking, of course. It’s not like the crown could withstand the impunity of asking their subjects to actively harm each other for its honour- not in this historical context, at least. A couple hundred years ago, perhaps? Mere decades? Should a new bellic conflict arise? Yeah, that sounds about right.<br/>
<br/>
Regardless, Seoho still feels like it’s a miracle he makes it out alive anyways.<br/>
<br/>
Seoho’s so out of it, arms trembling and eyes straying, searching for Youngjo’s figure at all times, that he loses his first combat out of four and ties the second. It’s only his score in the past tests - speed, resistance, strength, riding - and his popularity ranking what save him eventually, ending ninth out of ten and passing to the next and final round scheduled to air live in two weeks' time.<br/>
<br/>
The cheering, the lights, his sore body and looming anxiety that someone has seen what happened backstage don’t allow him to connect with his surroundings at all- so much so, that he almost forgets to bow to the balcony where the royal family stands when the national anthem sounds.There they are, regal, untouchable, looking down at them like hawks, judging as if they knew Seoho’s little secret. As if everybody did.<br/>
<br/>
Everything passes in a blur, and before he knows it, Seoho’s being coddled by his family, posing for pictures with aggressive flash and mindlessly answering questions from reporters from god knows where. There are fans- girls who ask for his autograph and gush over him. Seoho has half a mind to smile and thank them profusely- but their kind words of praise and support don’t quite reach his ears.<br/>
<br/>
When staff from security decides to save him from the mandatory socialization time with the crowd- as per production’s orders-, Seoho’s allowed to go to the changing rooms, where he slumps on the bench and sighs heavily.<br/>
<br/>
“Nicely done, Lee.” Youngjo enters the room barely a minute after him and Seoho groans out loud, too tired to play games now.<br/>
<br/>
“The fuck do you want now?” Seoho hisses. There's the sound of water running coming from the showers, and whoever they are, Seoho doesn’t want any unsolicited listeners in this conversation.<br/>
<br/>
“Ah! He talks again!” Youngjo is glowing from his double victory tonight. He stands, four combats undefeated, looking bright and fresh and joyous- and Seoho thinks that, even if their swords haven’t crossed this evening, Youngjo still won over him this time around. Seoho wonders how he can act so nonchalant about the whole thing, opening his locker with carefree excitement as he grabs a towel. “I just wanted to congratulate you for not totally ruining this for yourself. I’m almost proud of you-” He snickers and crosses his arms over his chest, hip leaning against the metal. “Almost”<br/>
<br/>
Considering the fact that initiating a physical altercation with another participant outside the regulated training days will get Seoho most likely disqualified, he drops any fantasy of landing a blow against that perfectly sculpted face of his. With a loud inhale that conveys days and days of accumulated frustration, he stands up and empties his locker roughly. It’s whatever. He’ll return his outfit later.<br/>
<br/>
“You talk to me about ruining things but you could have ruined things for us both. You do know anyone could have seen us, right?” Seoho grumbles lowly, and as soon as he’s punched everything in his bag, he turns around to look at Youngjo. The other seems to falter for a moment, shirt now off and eyes hardening. “I know you’re used to doing whatever you want without consequences- but not even daddy will be able to pay the news outlets off if this comes out. ”</p><p>Seoho refuses to look down. He <em> refuses </em> to allow his eyes to caress down glistening firm skin, glowing even under the trashy, gloomy lighting in the room. Lucky for Seoho, he’s not into two-faced, soft spoken pretty boys with yates and personal choppers. Especially not into those who scheme behind your back and have the softest pair of lips in the whole world and smell like <em> roses </em>- </p><p>Yeah. Lucky for Seoho.<br/>
<br/>
“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? It would work right in your favour- I'm sure you're already trying to find a way to get that leaked.” Youngjo snickers derisively and rolls his eyes, turning his back to him in a strange display of blatant displeasure. Youngjo is never anything but elegant in his ways, no matter the circumstances, or the sharpness of his words. To see him so gruff is beyond unsettling.<br/>
<br/>
“Excuse <em> me </em> ? You have <em> no </em> right to antagonize me here- <em> you’re </em> the one who- who-” Seoho forces himself to stop talking when he remembers anyone could be lurking around.<br/>
<br/>
“Well you didn’t complain, now, did you?” Youngjo spits out over his shoulder, as if with mean, empty amusement.<br/>
<br/>
“You fucking set me up!” Seoho cries out in disbelief and gets promptly shushed. </p><p>Why he allows Youngjo to shut him up is beyond him. </p><p>“Stop cursing, it’s unbecoming.” Youngjo comments, already back to his disdainful, holier than thou comments that have Seoho annoyed for hours on end afterwards. Heck. Even days. “And you think you can be a knight-”<br/>
<br/>
“Shut up! You did this on purpose, you knew this would fuck me up for the rest of the evening- you wanted to get in my head and distract me and make me lose-”<br/>
<br/>
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Youngjo is mad, properly so, Seoho can see it in the fire that’s so suddenly ignited in his brown eyes, even as he stays properly still, face perfectly relaxed. </p><p>“Why on earth would you do that otherwise?!” Seoho cries out, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy despite himself. He doesn’t understand why he feels like this- like an uncontainable whirl of feelings is pushing up his stomach, all the way up to his throat and forming a knot in there, stuck and swollen, fighting to be freed against the bounds of Seoho’s pride.<br/>
<br/>
A second. Two. Three, four, five. What feels like an entire minute of silence, both of them staying incredibly still while an invisible battle of dignity passes between them, within them. Only when Seoho feels as though he’s about to explode from tension alone does finally Youngjo move. He walks over to him with the kind of calm Seoho has always yearned for and envied in him from the moment he first saw Youngjo,  and with a single breath that caresses his face, Seoho loses his own.<br/>
<br/>
“Think.” Youngjo whispers, lethally persuasive. “You’re a smart boy, aren’t you? You made it this far, after all. So <em> think- </em>" </p><p>Seoho pushes him away with both hands against his bare chest- the contact making him tremble all the way down his knees as amusement dances mockingly in Youngjo's infuriatingly gorgeous face.  </p><p>One more second near him and Seoho's afraid of what he will do. His hands itch with the thirst of revenge- and should he not keep his body in check, he's afraid he'll actually punch him. </p><p> </p><p>Or worse. </p><p> </p><p>Kiss him.  </p><p> </p><p>"I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Youngjo asserts as he turns around and with a slight smirk, he’s gone to the showers. He’s got his pants on, <em> thank god. </em> And Seoho can’t help but feel like this is a bigger defeat than any other he could have experienced today in the arena. <br/>
<br/>
At least he gets a free day tomorrow.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>But peace, as expected, does not last.<br/>
<br/>
“I have a <em>TikTok </em>now?” Seoho asks, as he scrolls down his profile, a bunch of videos he didn’t even know he had already uploaded- a dizzying 289k followers and counting making him gape at Keonhee helplessly. “<em>What?”</em><em><br/>
</em><em><br/>
</em>“Yeah you also have a Pinterest but you don’t do that well there.” Keonhee replies with a grunt as he tries to move the sofa to the side of his living room- which proves to be a difficult feat, considering the thing happens to be bigger than Youngjo’s ego. Keonhee might the best ally Seoho could ask for in his silly delusions to humiliate young aristocracy in the country and get some well deserved peace of mind for middle class folks like him- yet he never managed to get rid of that penchant for luxury- a direct consequence of being born with a silver spoon in his mouth. At least he’s aware of it. At least he isn’t <em>titled. </em>God forbid.<br/>
<br/>
“What <em>happened?” </em><em><br/>
</em><em><br/>
</em>A huff- a yelp as he slips and falls onto his ass. Then, a sigh. <em>“</em>I just don’t think people use pinterest in general-”<br/>
<br/>
“No, I mean-” Seoho gestures wildly at his phone, unable to form proper words in his current state.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh- <em>Oh. </em>The almost 300k followers? Right. Well… I <em>may</em> have made a remix of you calling the upcoming beloved generation of national aristocracy <em>spoiled</em> and it sorta went viral-”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, fuck me.” Seoho moans in distress from his place on the stool as he drags a hand down his face. God. They’re gonna eat him alive at the victory photoshoot tomorrow. Seoho did not look forward to being dressed in a recreation of metal armour for a whole day to begin with, plus heavy make up and impossible lighting- now pair that up with Youngjo and the rest of the boys’ stares of hatred and Seoho might as well just quit altogether.<br/>
<br/>
“Language.” Keonhee chastises again. Seoho doesn’t really get how cursing is worse than a viral video of him calling the national golden boys spoiled- but then again, it’s not like Keonhee is an actual publicist. It would have been better had he hired someone who truly knew what they’re doing, probably. But Seoho didn’t trust all those old, creepy bastards that came knocking at his door and tried to charm him and his mother with porcelain smiles and fake laughs. “Also, by the way, I signed you up for etiquette lessons tomorrow- after the photoshoot. Which will really come in handy before that royal event you have this weekend- so please, for the love of your sweet, sweet mother, do make an effort to pretend like you’re not dying inside.”<br/>
<br/>
Seoho grumbles noncommittally and drowns the protein shake Keonhee has made him, while his friend slash publicist slash unofficial manager and caretaker keeps moving things around and making really unpleasant sounds as he drags them across the place.<br/>
<br/>
“There!” He grins once he’s done, looking at Seoho hands Keonhee his phone reluctantly and drags his feet to the centre of the room, shoulders slumped and expression defeated. </p><p>“Seriously? <em> TikTok?” </em> Seoho whines, and expects his bad puppy face is enough to disgust Keonhee into giving in.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh my god, you’re being such a millennial right now, there’s nothing wrong with TikTok. Now quit your whining and flip in the air for me.” Keonhee orders, holding the phone and ready to capture every little detail. </p><p>Seoho obeys- though under protest.<br/>
<br/>
…<br/>
<br/>
Five flips in the air, one failed trendy dance and three threats to be left publicistless from Keonhee later and Seoho’s ready to call it quits. He’ll willingly let Youngjo win if that’s what it takes to be done with this whole TikTok fiasco.<br/>
<br/>
“Okay, for the last one today I thought about this knight-themed five parts storyline where you go from being a peasant to saving the princess-”<br/>
<br/>
“God- <em> no </em> . No more of this, I beg you-” He's on the floor, on his back, an arm across his eyes when he hears his phone twinkle with sound. And then again. And again and again. Seoho frowns as he sits up in a rush.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, dear…” Keonhee stares at the screen, troubled eyebrows knitted together in quiet concern. “I think we’re done for the rest of the day.”<br/>
<br/>
Seoho frowns as the other hesitantly hands him the phone, so much so that Seoho snatches it from his hand in anxiety.<br/>
<br/>
The sight that greets him is enough for his heart to flip and drop, a knot forming low in his stomach, body running ice cold and petrifying him to his very core.<br/>
<br/>
<em> Star-crossed lovers? Scandal arises in the palace as two unknown suitors for the Queen's knight were spotted kissing before last night’s round. </em> <em><br/>
</em> <em><br/>
</em> Well fuck.<br/>
<br/>
“So…” Starts Keonhee as he silently hands him a glass of wine after Seoho has spent what feels like ten entire minutes just silently staring at his phone. “When were you gonna tell me that you’re sleeping with the enemy?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>.</p>
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